


you're welcome

by troubleseeker



Series: SPN kink bingo [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Breathplay, Duct Tape, Gags, M/M, Nipple Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, SPN Kink Bingo, Soulless Sam Winchester, Stanford Student Sam Winchester, Time Travel, pain play, sam knows that sam wants it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23667067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubleseeker/pseuds/troubleseeker
Summary: Soulless Sam has always wanted someone else to overpower him, truly take charge no matter what he does. But in their line of life that's- not advised. Truly, the only one who he'd ever trust with himself is ... himself. So what else is there for him to do but go back in time and overpower his younger self as he sits alone in his dorm room? It's the only way to give himself exactly what he's always needed.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: SPN kink bingo [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645564
Comments: 26
Kudos: 107
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo 2020





	you're welcome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnOddSock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnOddSock/gifts).



Sam struggles against the tape. Yanking hard, and then even harder, but getting nowhere. 

“Yeah, you know that’s not going to work. Drop the theatre.” Sam tells Sam, as he finishes tying him to his dorm bed. “I already proved I’m not a monster. I’m you. You’re me. And I- I know what you want.” Sam leans in, getting right up in your younger self’s face. “You want this.”

He drops the roll of tape onto the blankets. Surveying his work.

Twenty-one years old, he doesn’t have much of the muscle mass he’ll be building soon - hunting with Dean - but damn does he look good stretched out like that. Fully clothed or not, this is hot. No wonder everyone’s always trying to get him in some form of bondage.

“Too chicken shit to go out and ask for it, though. So here I am, from the future, making our dreams come true.”

His younger self grunts, trying to kick and failing miserably. There’s silver tape criss crossing his face and jaw, keeping this whole shindig nice and private. No need for words anyway; grunts and whines will do. 

He smiles, taps himself on his taped jaw.

“You’re welcome.”

Now sure he isn’t going anywhere, Sam takes his time getting the both of them undressed. Shoes first, then socks. He doesn’t resist the urge to tickle, relishing the frantic whimpers from further up the bed.

“We’ve been dreaming about this since before we knew it was wrong.”

He reaches up, up, up, flicking open his younger self’s belt and then his jeans. It’s an older pair, Sam vaguely remembers picking them up as a teen at some fifth hand shop. No zipper, just a row of buttons. He’d thought it was cool. Makes for ease of access now, at least.

Tied up and forced to take it, Sam’s breaths hitches higher and higher as his jeans are dragged down to his ankles. 

Fingertips barely touch skin as they dance across Sam’s trembling legs. Ankles, calves, knees, thighs, and then the delicate juncture between leg and ass. Up and down. In and out. Each time closer and closer to the boxer briefs that keep Sam’s dignity intact.

“Always so in control, the both of us.”

The second a fingertip slides under the tight cotton, Sam goes rigid. Breathing hard and fast, but too shallow for it to help. 

“Never a real chance to just- be out of it.”

He slides more fingertips under that arbitrary line in the sand, and then both of his hands; cupping tight muscular cheeks and squeezing them till his younger self whines behind his tape mask.

Sam leans up to see the fear and arousal in his own eyes. It’s glorious.

“Not giving someone control. No- that would be too simple.”

He squeezes again, digging his nails in just hard enough that it stings.

“We want someone to  _ take _ it.”

He drags his hands back out, making sure he’s leaving behind vicious red lines.

“Want someone to  _ make _ us give in.”

He rips Sam’s shirt to shreds, buttons flying across the room before he tears open the sleeves. He’s not messing with his tape or wrestling Sam’s hands back into submission just to save a shirt or two. The shirt is even easier. Cheap and weak, the material doesn’t even put up a fight.

No knives, just brute strength.

Sam is almost docile underneath him when he’s done. Sucking in shallow little breaths through his nose and staring up at him with wide blown eyes. Kid looks high, and adorable at the same time, and Sam can’t help but lean down to kiss the tape covered lips. 

“I’m going to take everything.” He hisses, kissing and licking across more tape till he gets to the sensitive skin behind Sam’s ear. “And you can’t do a single thing to stop me.” 

Sam whines beautifully when he bites down on the tendons he finds there. He worries the delicate skin between his teeth.

“Not that you want me to stop.” 

He sits back, ass planted firmly on Sam’s crotch and definite boner, to survey his work so far. 

“So much untouched skin, I don’t know where to start.”

He plucks at one of Sam’s nipples, pulling harshly till the boy is writhing underneath him, and then he digs in his nails. Sam bucks weakly, chest twisting from side to side and doing nothing but making it all so much worse.

Not letting up any pressure, Sam reaches for the second rosy bud. Sam’s eyes go wide underneath him, muffled sounds pouring out around the makeshift gag but none of them matter. Sam gets a good grip on the unmolested nipple and pulls; hard. Twists till Sam can’t arch up any higher and his abs are trembling.

“So pretty.” Sam tells him. Letting go just to see Sam sag back down to his shitty mattress in relief. “Let’s try that again.”

Sam doesn’t want it, even though he really really wants it. Sam knows he does. They both do.

He flicks at the twin points of agony when he’s done, relishing the way Sam twitches and whimpers at the sensation.

“So sensitive.” He coos, leaning down to lap and suck and of course bite at the skin he’s chosen as his starting points. “And we’ve barely even begun.”

Eventually, he sits back up, grinds his ass against Sam’s leaking dick. It’s a sight to behold, but everyone could tell it’s an unfinished work of art. Just a couple of brushstrokes down, you can see it’s going to be magnificent. But it’s not done.

It just takes two fingers to cut off any and all air to Sam’s young lungs. The plentiful layers of tape are doing their job perfectly.

Sam rakes his nails down Sam’s ribs as the kid struggles to shake off his hand, and it’s marvelous to see the thoughts rattling around in that horny brain.

He wants it. Sam knows that. He needs it… but he also needs to breathe. 

“Fight me all you want.” Sam says casually, squeezing his fingers tighter around Sam’s only untaped airway. “I’m not letting go until I’m good and ready.”

Even spreadeagled and taped down, Sam puts up a good fight. It reminds Sam of that mechanical bull Dean likes to wax poetic about. Certainly does a great job of rubbing Sam’s unwaning erection against his own. 

He lets Sam suck in a few frantic breaths when the struggling loses its edge. He wants the kid to be awake for  _ all _ of this.

“No checking out on me, Sammy.” He taunts, knowing just how much they both hate being belittled. “Not yet.”

Sam shivers, blinks frantically as he starts yanking at his restraints with more urgency.

“There we go.”

He clamps his fingers back down, and gets back to work. Sam’s torso needs more red lines, more bitemarks, more bruises. 

Sam lets Sam breathe for that last bit, controlled hits that won’t break ribs but punch delicious grunts from Sam as he tries desperately to brace himself for them. They’re mostly red now, but they’ll last longer than the scratchmarks.

“Gives you something to remember me by.” Sam laughs, slamming his fists down on Sam’s pectorals. “Every time you look in the mirror you’ll see these pretty bruises.”

Sam’s eyes spit fire, and if looks could kill there’d be a very strange gap in the future, but Sam’s not nearly powerful enough to do that yet; too horny to concentrate even if he could. 

He’s breathing hard - not as hard as Sam beneath him - when he feels content with his work. It’s a sad thing to see his youthful face so unblemished, but he’s not risking anything clothes can’t cover. Education is important after all, and he can’t have Sam regretting this.

“Perfect.” 

Sam flinches away from his hand when he cups his jaw, eyes fluttering closed as he braces for the hits he wants but sadly can’t have.

“Sorry, Sammy. Can’t have people asking too many questions, can we?”

Sam flops back to his pillow in what’s supposed to read as relief. Sam slaps him, gently enough, to prove how little he cares for the show. 

“You think I can’t feel you hard against my ass?” Sam grinds down to emphasize how very compromised Sm’s lie is. “Think I don’t know just how badly you need this? How much you’re loving every second?”

In a flash, he’s back down between Sam’s knees, hands tight around cheap cotton and elastic.

“Think I don’t know how you never use enough lube just so you can pretend you’re being forced to take the dildo hidden under the bed?”

He yanks, ripping cotton and dragging perfect friction burns into Sam’s pale skin.

“You lock that door tight and tie your hands behind your back every chance you get.”

Sam’s cock springs forth from the wreckage of his underwear; hard and leaking.

“No more pretending.” He hisses, hands yanking Sam’s hips up off the bed so he can slide his own knees and thighs underneath them. He doesn’t care about the tape digging into Sam’s ankles, or the stretch he’s forcing upon the kid’s legs and back. “Today you take it for real.”

Sam unzips his own jeans, pulling out his dick with near frantic energy. Slaps the thing down on Sam’s pelvis so he can compare the two side by side.

“And you- you’re going to lie there and let me.”

There’s a packet of lube in his back pocket, skin warm when he pours it over his fingers. Not too much, but he doesn’t want to do any actual permanent damage. 

“Cause you want this. Want me- anyone, really. To claim you.”

They shove in easily enough. 

“Fucking slut.” It’s not an insult, a badge they both wear with pride underneath layers of play pretend innocence. His fingers get sucked deeper, and he shoves a third one in to pull his younger self wide open. “Don’t even need my fingers do you?”

Sam whines, low and delirious behind his tape mask. But it’s certainly not a no.

Not that Sam would have listened.

He yanks his hand back, drizzles his cock in lube, and lines up.

“Say please, Sammy.”

Sam grunts, yanks at his wrists since every other part of him is stretched to its limits. The kid can’t even buck back down on Sam’s cock. Trapped like a fly in a very kinky spider’s web. 

“Beg me for it.” Sam orders, eyes wild as he waits for Sam to give in. He yanks on Sam’s abused nipple again when the kid refuses to make eye contact or do as he’s told. “Beg me for it. Or I leave you here like this, and neither of us ever get what we want.”

Sam hesitates at the threat. Holds still and thinks.

It’s an empty threat, Sam’s pretty sure of that, but perhaps he means it. Would he back out now? Take his boner and leave Sam to untie himself?

The next muffled moan isn’t one of pain, or fear- it’s pleading.

Sam’s heart lurches, dick harder than he could have ever imagined. He doesn’t let go of the nipple he’s bruising further, he only needs one hand to line up and shove inside.

Sam keens, head thrown back at the stretch; tape pulled taut as he tries to scream. There’s not enough lube to make this easy on him; barely enough to not rub the skin of his dick. But then again, they’re both masochists; one and the same. 

“Thank God we’re both sadists too.” He gasps, shoving forward in quick thrusts that make his blood sing. “So fucking tight.”

He needs both of his hands clamped tight around Sam’s slim hips to get his pelvis ground tight against Sam’s. There’s nowhere else for him to go, but he tries to grind deeper. He doesn’t want to pull back., doesn’t ever want to give up the hot clutch of Sam’s ass.

It’s Sam who doesn’t appreciate his lack of movement. He squirms, arching his back till he can’t go any further - dragging a precious inch of dick out of his speared hole - and then slams back down. 

Sam lets him, watches with untamed hunger as the kid impales himself over and over again. It’s a battle, especially with how little air he’s getting into his lungs, but he’s fighting it anyway.

He lets his hunger build and grow, till it’s too much to just watch.

He drags Sam back down again, digging ever more bruises into skin delicate skin, and ignoring the frantic whimpers coming from below.

“Not your show to run, Sammy.”

Sam howls, thrashing as wildly as he can, but there’s nowhere for him to go.

“You take what you get.”

He digs in his nails, leans forward to hiss into Sam’s furious face.

“You take what I give you.”

The kid’s fucking seething. Body shivering with pent up desire. Sam smiles, then pulls back and slams back into his own body. 

Hard.

Fast.

Brutal.

There’s no time or need for finesse. There’s just take- take- take. A steady pounding towards an end.

Sam’s silver wrapped face falls back, eyes rolled back in pleasure and pain, because this cannot just feel good. Short hitching breaths that match the rapidfire thrusts, as if Sam’s dick has taken over the diafram’s job and is all that’s keeping Sam oxygenated. 

There’s an urge to reach for that pretty boy face, the one he only remembers from pictures on Dean’s phone, and take away it’s air supply once more, but he wants Sam to be aware of what’s going on. 

He needs to remember every second of this. 

Ever push and pull.

Every frantic breath.

Sam reaches for pretty boy dick instead. Hand vice tight around the base just to feel the rage of denial clamp down around him. 

“Fight me.” He commands, eager for Sam to try and take what he wants. Eager to see him fail. He needs him even more desperate, more on edge, more- more.

And Sam tries. It’s beautiful to watch his struggle. Dick trapped between Sam’s fingers and it’s not going anywhere but by God he’s trying. 

“You wanna come or not?” He grins, egging on Sam’s futile struggles. It feels amazing on his cock. So good. So fucking Good. “Cause I’m so close, Sammy. And once I come I’m getting out of here.”

Sam’s eyes are blown wide, angry and needy and so blown they’re almost black, pleading noises bubbling from under the tape as he tries to pull in enough air to survive. He can’t fight anymore. Can’t do anything but lie there and take it, and he knows it. 

“Such a needy fucking slut.” Sam doesn’t stop jackhammering into the now pliant clutch of Sam’s ass. “Wanted this all along didn’t you. Admit it. Admit it and I might let you come.”

Sam breaks down, nodding and begging with all he’s got. Arching into the unrelenting slam of Sam’s hips like he’s being paid for it.

“Whore.” He tells himself, spitting the word at him as he lets go of Sam’s dick to tug on the kid’s balls instead. It hurts like fuck but Sam can come if he works through it. “Show me how bad you want it.”

He doesn’t know if he’s hit Sam’s prostate at all, if there’s a chance Sam can come untouched. Doesn’t care anyway. With a final parting slap to his balls that had Sam trying to jackknife, Sam grabs his hip bones once more and pounds his way to his orgasm. It can’t be far.

When his orgasm hits, Sam falls forward. Hips grinding in tiny thrusts as he pumps his come as deep as it can go. Taking Sam’s abused nipple in his mouth and sucking is barely more than a stray thought, but it’s the final straw that has the kid coming too. 

High pitched noises bounce around the room as Sammy shivers within the confines of his bonds; milks the last of Sam’s come out as he spasms around him. When Sam looks up a minute later, Sam’s unconscious but breathing. 

No need to hurry then. Enjoying every second, he gazes at the torn up chest underneath his cheek. Gentle now, he slides a hand across bumpy skin, tracing the raised welts he left behind. They’ll be gone in a few days. Perhaps he should have used a belt.

“Maybe next time.” He tells himself. With Sam finally giving in and acknowledging his needs- there might be a chance to do this again.

For now, he pulls out. It’s a smooth slide, with the added lubrication his come provides. Kneeling up, he finally sees the impressie load splattered across his younger self’s chest. 

Sam comes to when he starts messing with it. Rubbing it across the shallow cuts his nails left behind; it must sting like a bitch.

The kid is still barely coherent, whimpering and twitching but not with an actual plan of escape. Sam leaves him tied to the bed, tucks away his sated dick, and zips up.

“Been a pleasure, kid.” His handprint looks nice on Sam’s thigh, wakes the kid back up a bit too. “Might stop by again later. Really give you a work out.”

He hadn’t used his knife, too big a chance of permanent changes, but Sam pulls it out now. The way Sam’s eyes grow wide and wet make him rethink leaving it out of bounds, but he’s had his fill for now. A single cut releases one of Sam’s torn up wrists. 

It won’t take Sam long to get free now, freshly fucked or not, so Sam steps back to reopen his portal to his own time. 

“See ya.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to come yell at me on [tumblr](http://ryugarika.tumblr.com/) ... feel free to, I can take it.
> 
> Comments feed me!


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